[50 Cent]Yo, yo we can't stay alive foreverSo if shit hit the fan then we might as well die togetherI'm high as ever, more holes and more cheddarG-Unit move around wit them pounds and berreta'sYea faggot, if I want it I'm gon' have itRegardless if it's handed to me or I gotta grab itDon't make a ass outta yaself tryin to stop meI'm cocky, raps rocky, nigga you sloppyYou know that I'm, 8 levels above you niggaI'll club you nigga, I never heard of you nigga, ugly niggaI'm the wrong one to provokeYou rattin on niggas is only gon' leave you smokeSo the only thing left now is tools for these cowradsI got no friends, fuck most of these cowardsThey pop shit 'till we start approaching these cowardsWhile we lay around dollars, they lay around flowers

[Lloyd Banks]I got a intergangstress who argue and steams wit reeferAnd who flip when I call a bitch like she Queen LatifahNot all the vehicle's is long enough to stash the streetsweeperThis shit can get uglier than the Master P sneakerWe slidin through the ruckus, wit prada on the chuckusSoon as spring break ho's home from college wanna fuck usI ain't here to drop knowledge on you suckasI'll sick rottweiler's on you fuckas, cops followin to cuff usTop dollars to discuss this, whole lotta zerosWhen it comes to paper I blow a soul outta aeroI'ma break before I lay floor berryBesides, every rapper ain't a star, nigga plad ain't bulbaryYou can't tame Lloyd, smokin by the big screenYou changin the channel looks like I'm playin the game boyI know to watch botherin ya visionYou reach and I'll put a dot on ya head like its part of yo religionWhy party wit a pigeon?I'm blowin a 10 cuz Bush handin flyers for a party in a prisonI'm in the gucci vest wit the green and red strapsI'm the last rapper to scare niggas since Craig MackNow every morning's a fast startAnd there aint problem gettin dressed cuz my closet got more aisles than pathmarkRun, move startin a waveand leave wit 12 shells in ya mouth like a carton of eggsI'm the young pimp pardon my ageI don't got long hair but if I did she be puttin my braidsNiggas find what club they attake 'em wit us, and run a train on 'em like a subway macget advances from grey agrasee these record labels got most artists gettin fucked like the gay rappa'i go the college on the tourI'm goin down in history nigga, next to Wallace and ShakurI keep ya ammo clean, text polished in the drawerCamera's by the hamper that mine into the floorby now, you probably heard of mefresh outta surgery, flashy as a fuck, you gon' have to murder meBurglary, I'm leavin wit cha nike's bergendy, White T, bergendyyou match now, back downniggas love to hate you, but love you when you disappearcatch me on the boat wit weed smoke and official gearheavy when I toke, C notes from different yearsBesly in the robe, re-motes for liftin chairsYou ain't rich, but we glad to snatch yaI send cars to crib like I'm a cab dispatchayou better off wit ya stupid guys, lookin for a coupe to driveyou ain't gettin nuttin but ya french fries supersizedit's a damn shame y'all still localI'm in a million dollar studio layin my vocalsNigga

[50 Cent]Still in the projects nigga, you ain't goin nowhereyou gon' fuckin be there for the rest of yo muthafuckin lifeand yo momma said, I'm supposed to tell you somethin.....to encourage you, somethin positiveaight well I ain't gon' lie to you muthafucka, he ain't goin nowhereget yaself a beer, get on the fuckin curvefuckin dirtbag